Closets and Confessions
by Bamfwriter
Summary: Snape has a terrible scare, and Lupin is the sole audience to one of the Potions master's most secret confessions.


CLOSETS AND CONFESSIONS

By MegaRouge (aka Bamfwriter)

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Snape was late.  
  
He hurried along the corridor from his quarters, cursing under his breath as he fought with the numerous buttons on the front of his coat. Twice now he'd reached the bottom, only to have extra buttons, meaning he'd gone wrong somewhere in the middle. At last he got it right, and he quickened his pace. He was already ten minutes late for his Potions class.  
  
He'd been up nearly all night, grading an abysmal pile of mid-term essays. He'd finally tumbled into bed about fifteen minutes before the alarm woke him, and had slept through the noise. When he'd awakened at last, he was flabbergasted and cross with himself. He was NEVER late.  
  
Well, today he was.  
  
As he passed by a large, dimly-lit storage closet, he heard someone rustling about inside. He paused, turning and listening. Whoever it was, and whatever they were doing, it sounded as if they were trying to keep quiet. That plus the fact that they had not ignited the wall sconces in the tiny room lead Snape to believe that they were up to no good.  
  
A vision of the Weasley twins in the midst of mischief came to mind, and a sinister smile crept across Snape's face. Catching a student or two in the act of pillaging or vandalism would definitely make this morning brighter. It would also give him an excuse for being late.  
  
Creeping up to the partially-opened door as quietly as a black shadow, Snape peered through the opening. He didn't see anyone. Eyes peeled, he stepped into the room and looked around. But there didn't seem to be anyone there.  
  
Just then, a floorboard creaked behind him, and he whirled, ready to take points from someone's house. The mystery person stepped calmly out from behind the door, and the triumphant look on Snape's face abruptly changed to one of horror.  
  
"Hello Severus," Lord Voldemort hissed cordially. His red eyes fairly glowed in the dimness of the room, his white, snakelike face a pale blur above his dark collar.  
  
"M-my Lord!" Snape stammered instinctively. "Wh-what are you...."  
  
"My Lord?" Voldemort repeated mockingly. "Really Severus. Do you think me a fool?" He swept closer. "I have known for some time now that you are no loyal servant...except to Albus Dumbledore." The red eyes flashed in rage.  
  
Snape couldn't move. He could feel the blood draining from his face. His wand was tucked inside his coat, but he couldn't seem to move his hand toward it. He was like a rat petrified by the stare of a cobra as it prepared to strike.  
  
Voldemort raised his wand, and an evil smile curled the thin, white lips.  
  
Snape had imagined his death many times in the last several years, and he often thought it would be at the hands of The Dark Lord. But he never dreamt it would be in a storage closet at what he had always considered his safe haven, Hogwarts. He closed his eyes.

Remus Lupin had just come from Severus Snape's quarters. Albus had sent him to collect the Potions master when he did not show up for his for class. The lycanthrope had not been successful in locating his fellow professor, and was on his way back to the dungeons to serve as a substitute. His skill at potions was not exactly exemplary, but it would be safe than leaving the pupils to their own devices.  
  
He reasoned he should be more worried; Snape had never taken an unannounced sick day or vacation before. He always let Albus know in plenty of time when he would be forced to miss a class. But Remus knew that the Potions master had a heavy workload the night before, as Snape had grumbled about it throughout dinner. He suspected the other man had simply overslept, and was too exhausted to hear Remus knocking on his chamber door.  
  
He was just passing a partially-opened closet door to his left when he caught a flutter of black within. He stepped back, and grinned as he recognized the familiar cloak of the Potions master. Stepping through the door, Remus's greeting died on his lips when he saw Snape's face. The man whom he'd never seen show fear was frozen in terror.  
  
"Severus?" The sandy-haired professor moved into the room. He turned to see what had so frightened the stoic Potions master, and immediately whipped out his wand with a cry of alarm.  
  
"STUPEFY!" he roared, throwing himself between Snape and Voldemort. He aimed his wand between the red eyes, his other arm stretched out protectively across Severus. The red flash flew from the tip of his wand and struck the towering, robed figure.  
  
Immediately, the Dark Wizard's form shifted, swirling like smoke, and reformed into a pale, shimmering full moon, half hidden behind clouds.  
  
Remus stared, then gave a short, wolfish bark of relieved laughter. Chuckling at himself, he raised his wand. "Riddikulus!" he said loudly, snickering.  
  
The Boggart vanished in a large puff of smoke.  
  
"Whew!" Remus breathed, tucking the wand back into his jacket. He ran a hand over his hair, waiting for his pounding heart to ease back into a normal rhythm. Taking a deep breath, grinning, he turned to Snape. "Well, that's a hell of a way to start the morn….Hey, are you OK?"  
  
Snape was still staring at the spot where the Boggart Voldemort had stood, his face as white as his shirt collar, unblinking, unmoving.  
  
Remus stepped toward him. "Severus, you all right?" he asked worriedly, reaching out. He intended to lay his hands on the smaller man's shoulders, but the moment he touched the black cloak, Snape reacted violently.  
  
"NO!" the Potions master cried out in terror, recoiling back from Remus, flinging his arms as if to ward off an attack. He stumbled over a mop head, and nearly fell over backwards.  
  
"Hey! Whoa, easy…easy!" Lupin quickly strode forward and caught Snape by the upper arms, holding him steady. The man in black was shaking like a leaf, looking around in bewilderment, as if just having awakened from a nightmare. Remus rubbed his hands gently up and down Snape's arms, breathing softly to him. "It's all right…easy…it's OK."  
  
"Lupin?" Snape croaked. His eyes finally seemed to focus on the lycanthrope, and Remus gave him a reassuring smile.  
  
"Yeah," he said softly, still gently massaging Snape's arms and shoulders. "Are you OK?"  
  
Snape nodded absently, but then his knees buckled slightly, and he clutched at Remus's shirtfront. The lycanthrope quickly grabbed him by the waist and guided him to sit on a nearby crate. Then he reached back with one long leg and kicked the closet door shut. Snape would certainly be mortified for anyone to happen upon them right now.  
  
Once they were shut in and had some semblance of privacy, Remus pulled a second crate over and sat in front of the shaken Potions master. Snape bowed his head, putting his face in his hands, and just shook. Remus was at a loss as to what he could do, so he just ran his hand soothingly over Snape's quaking back.  
  
"It's OK," he whispered. "It's all right…it was just a Boggart." Feeling a bit braver, he moved his hand up and tousled the long, black hair. "Shhh…it's all right."  
  
After a minute or two, Snape gave a long, shuddering sigh, and slowly lifted his face. He was still pale, and looked terribly tired and old, but there was no sign of tears in the obsidian eyes. He glanced up at Lupin, and the werewolf was relieved to see lucidity there, at last.  
  
"Forgive me, Lupin," he murmured softly, running a hand over his hair. "My behavior…my…reaction.…That was inexcusable of me." He swallowed hard, then sniffled a bit, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No," Lupin soothed, laying his hand on the smaller man's knee. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. It happens to everyone once in a while. And you've been under incredible pressure." He smiled gently as the obsidian eyes met his once more.  
  
Snape nodded a little, swallowing hard again. He gave a miserable snort of derisive laughter. "A Boggart…a blasted Boggart….Even the slowest Third Years can beat a Boggart." He took a deep, refreshing breath, looking toward the ceiling, as if drawing strength.  
  
Lupin just rubbed his hand over Snape's knee, comforting with his touch rather than his words. The Potions master just sat there, now staring off into space as if watching some distant tableau play out. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft that Remus had to lean closer to hear it.  
  
"I saw my life flash before my eyes. It does happen, just like everyone says it does." Snape chuckled sadly, shaking his head a little. "Not that great a life, either."  
  
"Severus," Remus began, shaking his head.  
  
"He's going to kill me. One day, and probably soon, I know that he will kill me. And it will…be…slow." Snape lifted his eyes and looked directly into Lupin's. "I think I've known that ever since I had the Mark burned into me, all those years ago."  
  
As Lupin watched, Snape's lower lip trembled a bit, and he mashed his lips together, as if to try and conceal it. But Remus could see the ebony eyes growing glassy, and he felt a lump forming in his own throat.  
  
"I'm scared," Snape rasped, the words seeming to fight their way out of a throat that wanted to hold them in. He blinked and turned his gaze away, as if ashamed. "Lupin, I am so scared. And I hate myself for it. I feel like a bloody coward."  
  
Lupin had heard enough. He stood up, pulled Snape up with him, and wrapped the Potions master in his arms. He felt Snape stiffen at the unexpected physical closeness, but he tightened his arms, not letting the smaller man pull away. Soon, the rigid muscles under the black clothes softened, and Severus relaxed, allowing himself to be held and comforted.  
  
"I'm sorry," Snape whispered into Remus's shoulder, bringing his arms up to wrap loosely around the lycanthrope's waist.  
  
"Shhh," Remus breathed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's no shame in being afraid." He reached up and cradled the back of Severus's head, spreading his other hand across his bony shoulder blades.  
  
Snape sighed miserably into the fabric of Lupin's ratty sweater, and his chest hitched slightly. But he did not try to contradict the werewolf.  
  
"When he does kill me, " Snape murmured, "I hope that I won't die for nothing. That would be truly unbearable." Another shiver ran through the slim figure, and Remus tightened his embrace.  
  
"Severus," he began softly, "If Voldemort wants to kill you, he'll first have to get through me, and Dumbledore, and any number of others." Remus pulled back to meet the smaller man's black gaze, his own amber eyes sincere and steadfast.  
  
Snape studied the sandy-haired professor, as if trying to discern whether or not he was merely being placated with kind words. But as Remus watched, the expression of suspicion gradually melded into one of acceptance, and then gratitude.  
  
"Thank you, Remus."  
  
The lycanthrope smiled, and patted his comrade's back once before releasing him. Snape stepped back and began to compulsively straighten his clothes. Then suddenly he gasped.  
  
"What is it?" Remus asked, stepping forward, laying a hand on his arm.  
  
"My class!" Snape said sharply. "They'll have blown a wall out by now." He finished adjusting his collar and started toward the door.  
  
Lupin followed, chuckling softly under his breath. As Snape reached the door, he paused, and looked hesitantly back. Remus just stood there, waiting.  
  
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Snape asked uncertainly, black eyes pleading.  
  
Remus shook his head with a kind smile. "No, of course not."  
  
Snape gave a small, relieved sigh, and then opened the door.  
  
THE END 


End file.
